


Fast 9¾

by BrandonStrayne



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: ThePen15isMightier, Crossover, Heist, Historical References, Humor, Illnesses, M/M, Russia, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16204133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonStrayne/pseuds/BrandonStrayne
Summary: Narcissa is on death's door because of a mysterious illness and the only hope is an ashwinder egg. The only problem is that they've become a highly restricted potion ingredient since a recent love potion scandal made the headlines. Fortunately, Draco knows where he could obtain one, but he's going to need a lot of help, and some new friends, to get it back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Potterotics Pen15 is Mightier Crossover Challenge. I am definitely a fan of the Fast & Furious franchise, but I am by no means a master of that fandom, so hopefully I at least did those characters justice!
> 
> I would like to sincerely thank my beta reader, [teenage_hustler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenage_hustler/pseuds/teenage_hustler), who polished up this hot mess for me on such short notice! I would also like to thank [Drarryismymuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchersn/pseuds/Drarryismymuse) for their help cleaning up some of my (frequent) tense slips. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. I do not own any of these characters, nor are they based on real people. There is a guy that owns a large number of Faberge eggs, but the character in this fic is not based on him at all!
> 
> Two of George's corny jokes are borrowed from [this site](http://www.jokes4us.com/peoplejokes/magicianjokes.html).

 

 

 

 

“Can I speak with you out in the hall, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

Draco dabbed the wet cloth against his mother’s forehead, washing away the sheen of sweat that had gathered there, and nodded. He gently removed his hand from his mother’s weak grasp and bent down to place a kiss on her cheek before standing up from her bedside. She mumbled something under her breath, but it was incomprehensible in her current state, gripped as she was by fever dreams. He knew that all too soon her body would reverse polarities and her teeth would chatter together as chills swept through her slight frame.

 

Draco steeled himself and turned towards the door, bracing for the bad news that he could feel was about to be delivered to him. The mediwitch’s face was schooled, but she reached out and placed what he assumed was supposed to be a soothing hand on his shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, but there’s nothing else that I can do for her. The best we can do now is keep her as comfortable as we can and make sure that she has supportive people around while her body attempts to fight through this. She may not appear aware of her surroundings, but I’m sure that she is soothed by your presence. She always seems much less distressed when you’re nearby.”

 

“Surely there must be something that we can do! We’re magical, for Merlin’s sake!” Draco’s voice cracked as the panic he’d been trying to suppress for the last week started to fight its way up his throat.

 

“I’ve tried everything at my disposal, but—”

 

“What about things not at your disposal?” Draco interrupted the witch’s platitudes.

 

“Well... an ashwinder egg may help to break the fever, but after the head of the Department of Magical Transportation had those sexual misconduct charges filed against him by his undersecretary, the Ministry cracked down on any ingredient associated with Love Potions, so ashwinder eggs have become a highly controlled substance. It would take at least three months to file all the necessary paperwork and have the committee approve the request, and, frankly, your mother doesn’t have that much time.”

 

Draco could feel the calm visage that he wore for the rest of the world start to slip, and he dropped his face into his hands, willing the mediwitch to just stop talking already.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy.” The hand on his shoulder gave a consoling squeeze, but he shook it off. Draco looked up just in time to see the look of pity on the mediwitch’s face before she disappeared in a crack of Apparition.

 

Draco drew in a few shaky breaths and steeled himself to re-enter his mother’s bedroom. But then a distant memory flitted through his mind, and he gasped. He longed to go back to his mother’s side, but instead he turned on his heel and raced down the hall to the study.

 

For the first time in a week, a beam of hope was lit inside him.

 

***

 

Harry’s arms gave out with one particularly sharp thrust of Draco’s hips, and his face was suddenly buried in the pillow. He turned his face to the side and yanked the suffocating item out from under him, not caring where it landed as Draco continued the deep drives into his arse. He could feel his partner’s bruising grip slide away from his hips a moment before his cheeks were pulled apart, which he knew would allow Draco an unobstructed view of his cock sliding relentlessly in and out of Harry’s arse, claiming him.

 

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry managed to gasp as he reached between his spread legs and took his own cock in the firm grip of his hand, matching his strokes to Draco’s. “Your cock feels...ugh...so amazing. Fuck! Fuck me harder, please.”

 

The thrusts paused and Harry groaned in disappointment. But then he heard Draco spit. Just before feeling a drop of wetness hit the sensitive nerves along the rim of his arse, his groan morphed into one of raw lust. Draco could just cast another Lubrication Charm, but his use of spit always felt dirty and base and downright fucking hot. His dick resumed its motion, thrusting in and out of Harry’s arse as Draco’s left hand released its hold on Harry’s cheek and slid down. The soft skin of his thumb pressed deep circles onto Harry’s taint, massaging his prostate from the outside as the head of his cock pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves on every thrust inside.

 

Harry groaned and released his cock to reach down and take hold of his testicles, rolling them in his hand as he felt his orgasm start to tingle at the base of his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and panted into the bedsheet as Draco propped himself over him. Draco gave a firm thrust followed by a swivel of his hips, which were flush against Harry’s cheeks, and the grinding on his prostate was all that he needed before he felt his muscles seizing and he came, his spunk spilling out through the tight squeeze of his fist around the head of his cock.

 

There was a strangled cry behind him and then he felt Draco’s orgasm hit, along with the warm rush of semen splashing inside him. Harry let his knees slide down the bed and he collapsed onto his stomach, enjoying the weight of Draco on top of him. It was a moment before the foggy post-coital bliss lifted and he felt  a different kind of wetness trickle down his shoulder blade and pool in the dip of his spine, and he realized that Draco was crying.

 

“Baby…”

 

Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s back for a moment before he lifted his head and slowly pulled his softening prick from Harry’s arse. He rubbed soft circles around Harry’s contracting hole, soothing the stretched muscles back into place, before he leaned over and grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cast a couple of gentle Cleaning Charms over themselves and the bedsheet.

 

Harry rolled onto his back while Draco replaced his wand on the bedside table. He opened his arms wide, wrapping them around Draco’s back and stroking softly along his side as Draco cuddled up beside him, his head resting on Harry’s pectoral muscle.

 

“Talk to me, Draco. What did the mediwitch say?”

 

Draco shifted closer, bringing his arm up to Harry’s chest and twirling his fingers in the hairs there. Draco was silent for a few minutes, but Harry didn’t push him. He knew that Draco was just working up the courage to tell Harry what had happened this afternoon with the Healer.

 

“It’s not good...I think she’s going to die, Harry.”

 

Harry placed a kiss on the top of Draco’s head as he felt fresh tears fall onto his bare chest. Harry used to think that Draco was cold and unfeeling, because he always seemed so...contained. But what Harry had come to understand was that Draco just handled his feelings differently. Where Harry would rage and yell and want to trash things—anything to get the feelings out—Draco would go still. He would quarantine his feelings inside of himself until the danger had passed. Harry now realized  that Draco’s apparent calm in times of crisis was nothing of the sort; he would hold himself still as if the emotions, if let loose, would shatter him apart.

 

After a few moments, in which he let Draco’s tears continue to fall and tried to impart what strength he could to him through his touch, Draco sniffed and continued. “Our only hope is an ashwinder egg, which, of course, are tightly controlled. By the time we can get one through official channels, it will be far too late.”

 

“What about unofficial channels?” Harry asked.

 

A small smile crossed Draco’s lips. He used to think that Harry was a frightful do-gooder, but he’d come to learn that Harry was not opposed to breaking the rules when the situation called for it. That was one of the reasons why they work so well together.

 

“I did have one thought. My family used to own an ornament that featured a frozen ashwinder egg, but my father sold it during the war to fund Voldemort’s war chest.”

 

“Are you sure the buyer didn’t turn it in when the Ministry amended the law and made them a regulated ingredient? The fines for being caught with one are astronomical. I’m not sure it would be worth it for a trinket.”

 

“I’m sure they would have if they’d known about it. You see, it was sold to a Muggle, so they wouldn’t actually know anything about the law,” Draco explained.

 

“Wait. You’re telling me that your father—Lucius Abraxas Malfoy—sold one of his precious possessions to a _Muggle_?” Harry’s eyebrows shot up at this startling news.

 

“I’m sure he despised doing it, but my understanding is that the Muggle was offering the highest price. These trinkets have become somewhat of a novelty among the Muggles and are highly coveted, but nobody in the wizarding world seems to have taken much notice of them.”

 

“Well, that’s great then!” Harry responded excitedly. “We’ll buy it back from him. If you need any help, money-wise, I’m more than happy to put some of those galleons wasting away in my vault at Gringotts to good use, and—”

 

“He won’t sell,” Draco cut off Harry’s growing optimism. “I contacted him as soon as the idea came to me. Took me an age to figure out how to use one of those telephone thingies, but I finally managed to get in touch with him and he refused to sell it back to me. I told him that price is no object, but he said no way. I even offered to just buy the ashwinder egg, which is just the little trinket inside the main sculpture, and he still refused. Said that one without the other was pointless.”

 

“What!” Harry’s tone was spiked with outrage, “How can he just say no?! A person’s life is at risk here!”

 

“Harry,” Draco let out a soft sigh against Harry’s chest, “I obviously couldn’t tell him anything about that. He’s a Muggle. He doesn’t know what the ashwinder egg really is. He just thinks that I’m...well, I don’t know what he thinks my goal is, to be honest. After he turned me down several times, he informed me that he would not be changing his mind and that we were done, then he hung up on me. I tried calling him back several more times, but he told his secretary to reject my calls.”

 

They lay together in silence for several moments, gentle fingers stroking skin in soothing patterns, the only sound in the room their soft breaths and the light patter of raindrops on the window pane.

 

Harry’s voice broke the silence, “Well, if he won’t sell it, then we’ll just have to steal it.”

 

Draco’s head shot up and he looked at Harry, shock written plainly across his face. Harry’s shit-eating grin lit up his face and it was so infectious that Draco couldn’t help but feel his despair lift a little as he returned a small smile back at Harry.

 

“How could I ever have forgotten that I am dating a bloody Gryffindor?” Draco smirked.


	2. Chapter 2

“Bloody hell, Harry! You can’t be serious?!” Ron proclaimed.

Draco and Harry quickly realized that they would need assistance in their plan, and had reached out to several members of the Weasley family for help. Ron and Hermione had stood beside Harry through seven years of Voldemort trying to kill him, so there was no way they were going to abandon him now. The four of them had retreated to the attic of the Burrow to discuss the idea in private during the Weasley Sunday family dinner, but they had been interrupted when George and Ginny burst in and demanded to be a part of the plan as well, George rolling up an Extendable Ear and tucking it in the pocket of his purple velour jacket as he did so. Since his Muggle girlfriend had started introducing him to Muggle films, he seemed to procure an interesting new wardrobe item every week. Not surprisingly, this week’s film had been Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Draco had exasperatedly complained that they “may as well just take an advert out in the Prophet for conspirators,” and had refused to continue the discussion for fear that more Weasleys would volunteer their services. They all agreed to postpone further discussion until later that evening. Once they’d all eaten their fill of Mrs. Weasley’s delicious spread, everyone retired to Harry and Draco’s apartment to continue their plotting. They were all seated around the dining table, and now that the tea had been distributed, they were digging into it.

“I’m very serious, Mate,” Harry assured. “We don’t really have any choice. This is Narcissa’s only hope, and she’s family. You don’t turn your back on family.”

“Tell us about the egg, Draco,” Ginny encouraged, trying to move the proceedings along. They all knew that Ron would grumble and complain, but would never even consider leaving Harry in the lurch.

“Prior to my father selling it to the Muggle, the egg had been in my family’s collection since 1917. It was the final Imperial egg that Fabergé ever produced,” Draco explained.

“That final egg, the Constellation Egg, was never finished, Draco. There are two in-progress versions on display, though one of those is contested and may not be legitimate,” Hermione said.

“How do you know all of this already Hermione?” George asked.

“My parents took me to the Fabergé Museum in Baden-Baden one summer,” Hermione explained with a shrug.

“You’re correct as far as the official, known story goes, Granger.” Draco took a sip of his tea before he continued. “But that official narrative has been...modified slightly.”

“Well don’t keep us in suspense, you git!” George joked as he reached out and knocked Draco on the arm.

Draco rolled his eyes at George’s shenanigans before he huffed, “If you all would stop interrupting me, I’ll tell you the story.”

George mimicked zipping his lips, turning the key and tossing it away, and Draco rolled his eyes before he gave a stern look to every other person around the table. When he was satisfied that they wouldn’t interrupt him again, he continued with his story.

“My great-grandfather, Cyril, and his wife attended the wedding of Nicholas II of Russia and Princess Alix of Hesse and by Rhine. His wife was German by birth and a close, personal friend of the future Russian tsarina, and so they were invited to stay at the Winter Palace with the Russian Imperial family. It was during that stay that my grandfather first encountered Fabergé eggs. For nearly ten years, Alexander III had been commissioning an ornate Easter egg each year for his wife as a present, and my great grandfather was impressed by their opulence.

“After they returned home, my great grandfather struck up a correspondence with Peter Carl Fabergé, the jeweler who had overseen all of the Imperial eggs, but he was never able to procure one of the illustrious eggs for himself. When the October revolution began, Fabergé was working on the next Imperial egg, but had not decided on a final design and instead had three eggs in progress. By this time, Cyril’s first wife had passed away from complications during childbirth and he was courting the woman that would become my great-grandmother, Corona Black. He decided that the final Imperial egg would be a fitting gift for his soon-to-be wife and he contacted his old friend Fabergé, who agreed to complete one of the in-flight designs and sell it to him. Fabergé could read the writing on the wall and knew that he would need to flee his homeland soon, and he needed a source of untraceable income.

“Over the next few months, he completed that third egg in secret. Several months later, when the egg was ready, Cyril travelled to Saint Petersburg and purchased the egg. While he was there, he and Fabergé removed all traces of the third egg’s existence—Fabergé destroyed all of the company’s documentation of it, and my great-grandfather modified the memories of the handful of employees that had been privy to the design. By the time he travelled back to Britain, the only two people that knew what the egg looked like—or that it even existed—were Fabergé and my great-grandfather. Fabergé was proven correct; within a year he had to flee Russia and the House of Fabergé was no more. Two years later he had passed on, so as far as I know, this egg was his last creation.”

“Wow! That’s an incredible story. It’s like a fairy tale!” Ginny sat with her chin propped on her hands as she leaned forward on the table, captivated by Malfoy’s story.

“So what does this fancy-pants egg look like, then?” Ron asked as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “Harry, do you have any biscuits?”

“You just had 2 servings of dinner at Mum’s not 2 hours ago,” George laughed. “It’s a wonder your Patronus isn’t a pig!” He and Ginny broke out into oinking sounds, followed by peals of laughter.

“I can’t help it! I eat in times of stress,” Ron protested as he dug through Harry and Draco’s cabinets. His arm emerged from the back of the cupboard with a triumphant “AH HA!” and he took his seat at the table, dipping a custard cream into his tea for a moment before cramming the whole thing into his mouth.

“We’ll just have to work the extra calories off later, right Hermione?” Ron nudged Hermione as he waggled his eyebrows at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and gave Ron a fond look as the rest of the room let off a volley of groans, bleghs, and requests for them to get a room.

Draco chuckled to himself. If he had a Time Turner and could go back and tell his former self that he’d one day be sitting at the dining table in an apartment that he shares with his boyfriend, Harry Potter, and plotting a heist along with three Weasleys—and that he was actually enjoying it all—he was pretty sure his former self would perish from the shock.

Removing a photograph from his pocket, he gave it to George to pass around the table. “I brought this photograph of it, but it doesn’t really do it justice. The egg rests on a three-legged, golden rococo style base. The wide base of the egg is decorated with hundreds of tiny emeralds that are arranged to look like blades of grass. The majority of the egg is painted a variegated collection of blues to look like the night sky. The Corona Borealis constellation is outlined in the sky with strands of silver—”

“Did Cyril request that constellation specifically? So he could woo your great-grandmother?” Hermione asked.

“No, actually, that was just a coincidence. Corona Borealis means ‘northern crown’, which was a fitting choice for the Russian Tsarina. Apparently Cyril was a bit of a romantic though, and he thought that it was a sign that this second marriage would turn out well.”

Draco paused for a moment to take a sip of tea before continuing. “As I was saying, the Corona Borealis constellation is outlined with strands of silver, but what makes the egg truly remarkable is that there are small holes in the constellation where the stars are supposed to be located. The top of the egg actually has a small hole, about the size of a Knut. When you place the egg under a light source, the light enters at the top and bounces around all these little mirrors that are attached to the inside of the egg, and it makes it look like the interior of the egg is lit up, and the stars are sparkling.”

“I read about something like that once. There’s a theory that the ancient Egyptians used polished copper panels to reflect light and illuminate rooms in the pyramids. It’s really quite fascinating. I don’t know all of the physics behind it, but apparen—”

“Hermione, maybe we could postpone the history lesson for another time?” Harry suggested.

“Oh, yes, sorry. You’re right. So you’ve described the egg itself, Draco. Where does the ashwinder egg fit into this? Is it part of the surprise, or something?” Hermione turned back to Draco.

“Surprise?” Ginny asked as she reached over and grabbed a biscuit from the package in front of Ron.

“It was a standard feature of the Imperial Easter eggs,” Hermione explained. “The eggs themselves are usually elaborately decorated, often with some sort of theme or concept, or to commemorate an important event in Russian history, and then there would be a surprise of some kind inside.”

“That’s exactly right, Granger, as usual.” Draco assented as he gave Hermione a small smile. The fact that she always seemed to have all of the answers drove him up the wall in school, but now that they had developed a friendship in the years since Voldemort had been defeated, he could admit how often he was impressed by the breadth of her knowledge.

“The surprise for the Constellation Egg is a semi-circular trinket box that has a spiral galaxy made of variously coloured diamonds on the flat edge of the top. The top unscrews and the ashwinder egg is inside. When the surprise is placed in the base of the egg, the Freezing Charm on the egg is strong enough that it makes the entire egg feel slightly cold.”

There was a moment of silence around the table before George spoke up, “So I’m just going to go ahead and ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind: Did it get ol’ Cyril laid?”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “As far as I understand it, Cyril and Corona’s wedding was held very soon after and it was tacitly agreed that nobody would do the maths when my grandfather was born less than nine months later. Since then, the egg has been passed down to the next Malfoy man looking to woo a prospective bride, the most recent being my father, who gifted it to my mother as an engagement present.”

“How did your mother take it when Lucius sold it? Technically it was hers, and it wasn’t his to sell?”

“It broke her heart,” Draco said simply.


	3. Chapter 3

“I still don’t understand why we need to hire these Muggles. We’ve got magic! Surely we can steal one little trinket from some Muggle without involving other people.” Ron finished pouring a healthy dose of firewhisky into a fancy crystal glass and slumped down in the leather camelback sofa that sat on one side of the Malfoys’ richly-appointed formal sitting room.

 

“I told you, Ron. We can’t just Apparate into his vault and steal the egg. He will have a very expensive security system in place, and if we’re caught, we’re at risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. We can’t risk it. We need this to look like a Muggle crime,” Hermione didn’t even look up from the folder of research that she had collected on their target as she explained to Ron—yet again—why they had contracted the notorious Muggle criminals to help them steal the egg.

 

Ron took a long sip of his drink before he replying, “Okay, but how do we know we can trust these guys?”

 

Just then, George appeared in the doorway, crossed the room and grabbed the tumbler out of Ron’s hand, taking a loud gulp before occupying the other side of the sofa.

 

“Oi! The bar’s right over there, you prat. You could pour your own drink, you know,” Ron squawked in indignation as Ginny let out a snort of amusement. Sibling rivalry is always so much more enjoyable when you’re not one of the warring factions.

 

“Why would I do that when I have a caring, generous brother that poured one for me, though?” George asked with a wide grin lighting up his face.

 

Grumbling, Ron hauled himself off the sofa and headed back to the bar, while George and Ginny exchanged grins.

 

“Don’t worry, little brother. Brooke recommended them. They’re the best at what they do.”

 

“Right...which is being criminals...who aren’t exactly known for being trustworthy,” Ron retorted. “Speaking of, does Mum know that your girlfriend apparently has ties to internationally-renowned Muggle criminals?”

 

“Not exactly,” George shrugged. “And she’s my fiancé, thank you very much, which puts us closer to giving her lots of adorable, pudgy little grandbabies than you and Miss Bookworm over there.” A faint tongue cluck could be heard emanating from the desk where Hermione was still reading through her piles of research for what must have been the hundredth time. “So something tells me she will be inclined to look past it.”

 

“I plan on making them sign a Speak-No-Evil Parchment, so they won’t be able to reveal anything we tell them,” Hermione flipped the folder closed and turned around in her chair to face the two brothers. “And there’s no rush to get married yet. We only want to have two children, so I don’t need to get pregnant until I am 31 and 33, respectively, which gives me 2 years’ leeway before my last would be considered a geriatric pregnancy and would become higher risk. We’ll want to be married for 2 years before we have the first baby, so if we get engaged at 28 that will give us a year to plan the wedding, since I’m sure Molly will want to make it a big to-do. That means we have 2 and a ½ more years until we need to announce our engagement.”

 

George’s jaw dropped as he stared at Hermione. After a few moments of stunned silence, he turned to Ron, “I can’t believe she has all of that planned out already.”

 

Ron shrugged and turned a fond smile to Hermione, “Of course she does. She’s Hermione.” Hermione smiled back at Ron and blew him a kiss.

 

“This way gentlemen. And ladies,” Draco’s posh tone could be heard drifting down the hallway. Everyone in the room sat up straighter, suddenly nervous about the impending meeting. Four heads turned to the door as the group entered, their appraising eyes scanning the room before they exchanged loaded glances with each other, seeming to exchange thoughts without the need for words.

 

“I didn’t realize we were being hired by a Duke or some shit,” a bald, black man wearing a black leather jacket over an army print shirt and black jeans said. He picked up the jade paperweight from the top of the desk and began tossing it up and catching it as he continued his tour around the room.

 

“Hey Roman, check this shit out. These people look like they ain’t never seen the sun before,” said another man, with close-cropped black hair and a thin mustache. He inspected several of the Malfoy family portraits, which had a stasis charm placed on them that morning to prevent their inhabitants from moving and giving the Muggles a shock before the time had come. The man’s eyes continued their scan of the room until they snagged on Ginny. Smirking, he sauntered over to her and knelt down beside the sofa she was sitting on, “Well hellooooo beautiful. With that gorgeous red hair of yours, you look like the sun itself. I’m Tej. And you are?” The man extended his hand and placed it on her forearm, resting on the arm of the sofa.

 

Ginny eyed the confident man up and down before a smirk arose. “I’m...not interested,” she replied as she peeled his hand off of her arm and tossed it away, wiping her hands as if she’d just taken out the rubbish.

 

“A woman that likes to be chased. I’m cool with that. It will be a more interesting story to tell our grandkids.” The man took the rejection lightly, chuckling to himself.

 

“Actually, I’m usually the chaser. And I’m damn good at it,” Ginny deadpanned, and a small snort escaped Harry at her play on words.

 

Just then, a statuesque black woman with thick, naturally styled, curly hair entered the room and took a brief look around before she walked over and took a seat on the sofa Ginny was occupying, fingertips nervously tapping against her thighs. Ginny leaned forward and offered her hand, “I’m Ginny.”

 

The woman slowly lifted her hand and took Ginny’s in her own as she introduced herself, “Ramsey.”

“Ramsey? And I thought Ginevra was uncommon. You’ve definitely won that race,” Ginny joked as she shook Ramsey’s hand. Ramsey gave her a timid smile before she directed her attention back to the other occupants of the room.

 

Ron turned to the last two members of the Muggle team; a Latina woman wearing red leather pants and a black tank; and the heavily-muscled house of a man standing beside her. The man was wearing simple clothes: plain black pants and a white muscle tee. The only notable item was a large silver cross that was hanging on a long chain from his neck. The man’s upper arms were so thick with musculature that Ron didn’t think he’d be able to encircle the biceps with his hands.  _ Surely muscles like that shouldn’t be possible?,  _ Ron thought. A deep, gravelly voice came out of the gargantuan man, “We’re all here. Let’s get down to business.”

 

Ron turned his attention to Hermione to see that her mouth was slightly ajar as she stared at the man, who seemed to be in charge of their team. Perhaps he should have felt jealous, but he honestly couldn’t blame her; he’d never suffered any confusion around his sexuality, and even he could admit that the man was sex on two very meaty legs. 

 

Hermione jolted, composed herself, and stood up from the desk, “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We really appreciate it, as this is something of a time-sensitive job.”

 

“Firewhisky? What the bleeding hell is that?” Another member of the team,a bald man with what sounded like a Derbyshire accent, shouted. “Butterbeer? Turnip wine? Don’t you posh fuckers have any normal booze in this place?” The man eyed each bottle in turn with a slight look of disgust on his face.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind just giving your attention to my friend for a moment,” Draco gestured to Hermione, “once we have taken care of a quick matter of business, I will have Kerplunk, my...housekeeper, provide us with refreshments.”

 

“Kerplunk?! What kind of a name is Kerplunk?” Roman laughed.

 

“Very professional, man. Insult the client’s help,” Tej rolled his eyes.

 

“I was just saying—”

 

Roman’s retort was cut off by the Latina woman’s exasperated voice, “Would you two shut your traps for two minutes and let the woman talk already!” Roman and Tej abandoned their verbal sparring and the woman nodded her head at Hermione to speak.

 

“Thank you,” Hermione cleared her throat. “First things first, introductions are in order. My name is Hermione,” Roman looked like he was about to share his thoughts on Hermione’s unusual name, but at a sharp look from the woman, seemed to rethink it. “Over there on the far sofa is Ginny, on this sofa is Ron and George,” she indicated each brother in turn. “And of course you met Draco and Harry when they let you into the Manor,” Hermione waved her hand in the direction of the door, where Draco and Harry were standing, Harry with his hands on his hips, and Draco leaning against the doorframe with one leg crossed over the other and his arms crossed over his chest. “And you are…?”

 

“Roman and Tej are over there,” the muscled man indicated the two outspoken members, who were now standing beside each other and leaning on the back of the sofa in which Ginny and the woman were seated on. “Tej is our electronics man and Roman...well, Roman is the charm, I guess.” At this, Roman beamed brightly and gave Hermione a wink.

 

“Ramsey,” the man nodded his head towards the quiet woman seated on the couch, “can hack her way into any computer system on the planet.” The woman, Ramsey, just gave a small dip of her head in acknowledgement of the praise. The Weasleys and Draco looked perplexed, but Hermione gave the woman an assessing look, appearing quite impressed, along with Harry.

 

“Deckard is the hothead behind the bar,” Dom continued around the room.

 

“I’m the man whose ex-wife you’re banging,” Deckard turned a stony face towards George as an awkward tension pervaded the room. Everyone held their breaths, wondering if the two men were about to come to blows.

 

“Should we pull our wands out and compare?” George shot back.

 

Deckard stared back for a moment before letting out a scoff and going back to inspecting the shelf full of bottles on offer with a muttered, “She did always like a joker.”

 

“This here is Letty. She can drive the hell out of anything on wheels,” the man gave the woman a fond look that lasted only a moment. “And I’m Dom.”

 

“Excellent,” Hermione’s eyes move around the room, making contact with everyone in turn. “Before we get into the specifics of this task, we are going to have to request that you sign this paper.” She picked up the Speak-No-Evil Parchment and a quill and held them out to Dom, who seemed to be in charge of the Muggles.

 

Dom didn't move, but rather eyed the quill with narrowed eyes. “Seriously?” His voice held a tiny thread of incredulity.

 

“Oh right, yes. Sorry, matter of habit.” Hermione picked up her purse and dug around in it, her hand surfacing with a ballpoint pen, which she handed to Dom, along with the paper.

 

Dom took the paper and signed it, using Letty’s back as a writing surface and then reversing the position to allow her to sign the sheet of paper as well. Ramsey, Deckard, Roman, and finally Tej signed the sheet as well, and Hermione walked over and took it back from Tej, folding the paper up before speaking. “Right. Well, I think the first thing that you all know is that the paper you have just signed will prevent you from revealing to anyone else outside of this room what we’re about to discuss.”

 

“Right, like a stupid piece of paper is going to stop us if we wanted to tell someone,” Letty scoffed as she rolled her eyes and a mirthless chuckle escaped her.

 

“In fact, it will. You see, the paper is magic.” Hermione dropped the announcement and then looked around the room to gauge the reaction of the Muggles. All that she was met with was blank stares, faces not betraying anything for a moment until the six Muggles burst out laughing. “Right, Draco? I think you said something about Kerplunk serving refreshments?”

 

Draco nodded his head with a smirk on his face before he summoned his house elf, “Kerplunk!”

 

A small house-elf, who came no higher than the wizard’s knees, popped into existence beside his master. The elf was dressed in a miniature sized tuxedo, top hat included. Hermione had insisted that Draco provide his elf with clothes and pay him a wage, and Draco had insisted that the clothes should at least be stylish. Kerplunk had taken some convincing and had at first been offended that Master Malfoy wanted to pay for his services, but the elf had promptly become quite the clotheshorse; his wardrobe now rivalled Draco’s in both size and quality. It helped that he could purchase children’s clothes, which were considerably cheaper.

 

“Master Malfoy be calling Kerplunk?”

 

“DAMN! What the hell is that?!” Nearly simultaneous exclamations of surprise had been shouted by Tej and Roman, while Dom’s eyebrows merely rose a fraction of an inch.

 

“I’s be Master Malfoy’s house-elf, Muggle sir,” the elf bowed in a regal gesture to the two men who stood looking gobsmacked at the tiny creature.

 

“Kerplunk, would you kindly bring us some beverages? I believe Mr. Deckard over there was less than enthused with our wizarding alcohol options, but perhaps some Lagavulin would be more to his liking?” Draco turned to Deckard, who was still standing behind the bar, but seemed to have forgotten his quest for a drink at the appearance of the elf.

 

“Just Deckard. And yeah, Lagavulin‘s fine.”

 

“Please bring us the bottle, and also a jug of water, Kerplunk,” Draco requested, turning back to the servant.

 

“And some Coronas if you’ve got ‘em,” Dom requested and Letty gave a nod of agreement.

 

Kerplunk nodded and disappeared once again with a sharp crack. The Muggles, even having seen Kerplunk appear out of thin air only a moment ago, still seemed taken aback at the sudden disappearance.

 

“It looks like we could use a few more spots to sit.” Hermione removed her wand and began transfiguring various objects from around the room into chairs, all arranged in a loose circle around the room.

 

“Okay okay, I know what’s happening here. You crazy bastards’re pumping in some kind of trippy drug or something, aren’t you? I’m trippin’, right?” Roman poked suspiciously at the transfigured chair closest to him. He tilted the chair back on two legs and then released it, watching as it teetered back to sit flat once more. “You guys gotta hook me up with your supplier, because this shit is primo!”

 

“I know that this must be somewhat...unnerving for you, but if you would just sit down, we will explain everything to you,” Hermione intoned, gesturing to the chairs.

 

“What’s in it for us?” Letty, who appeared to have moved closer to Dom in the last several minutes, asked.

 

“A bloody lot of money, is what,” George said with a grin.

 

“How much do you know about Fabergé eggs?” Draco asked as he took a seat in the circle beside Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

The six Muggles and six wizards once more convened in the Malfoy Manor dining room. During their last meeting, it had taken quite a while to convince the Muggles that they were not hallucinating and that magic was, indeed, real. It had taken even longer to convince them to stay after they had accepted that fact. In the end, it had been the promise of the priceless treasures that had swayed them to agree to help with the plan. It also didn’t hurt when Hermione had shared all of the less-than-savory information she had managed to gather about their intended target. It seemed that their target, a Russian oligarch by the name of Mikhael Dyatlov, had managed to finance his collection of priceless Fabergé eggs by running a highly profitable human trafficking ring.

 

The two groups had parted ways last week, with the Muggles promising that they would use their computers and tools to investigate their target and try to devise a plan of attack. Dyatlov was confirmed to be the owner of at least six of the Imperial eggs and a couple of the other Fabergé eggs, not to mention a large collection of jewels and artwork. Due to the notoriety of the items, the Muggles would have to fence the haul from the heist, but there are always people with very deep pockets that are willing to bend the rules in a quest to acquire rare and beautiful items. The only item that held any interest for Draco was one egg in particular.

 

“Ramsey, why don’t you tell us what you’ve got?” Dom nodded his head at the woman as he crossed his thick arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. The white muscle shirt left little to the imagination, and Draco couldn’t help but stare at the rippling muscles. That was, until Harry gave him a rather insistent elbow to the ribs and a pointed stare. Draco shrugged, gave him a cheeky grin, and leaned in so that he could whisper in Harry’s ear, “I was just thinking that we should get you one of those shirts.” Harry rolled his eyes but Draco could tell that his burst of jealousy had been appeased slightly.

 

Ramsey set up her computer and connected it to a projector. The image of Mikhael Dyatlov was soon shining onto the white bedsheet they had hung on the wall as a screen. “I managed to confirm what Hermione told us last week about Dyatlov and his income streams. Officially he operates a successful import/export operation, but it didn’t take that much digging to shake out some skeletons from his closet,” Ramsey clicked ahead to display what looked like confidential police investigation files, complete with surveillance photos.

 

“I’ll take a skeleton over a boggart any day, personally,” George said.

 

“What the hell is a boggart?” Tej asked.

 

“Let me guess, you magicians have some weird, freaky snot monsters or something?” Roman scoffed.

 

“First, we’re wizards and witches, not magicians. Second, a boggart is a magical creature that takes the shape of your greatest fear, actually.” Roman and Tej seemed to process Ginny’s explanation for a moment before they both shuddered, and the amused expression drained from Roman’s face. “And third, we don’t have any snot monsters, but I  _ am _ famous for my Bat-Bogey Hex, and if you don’t want to experience the misery of that particular spell personally, then I recommend you three prats shut your gobs and let the lady finish.”

 

Roman and Tej gave Ginny amused glances for a moment, but when they noticed the look of fear on George’s face, their expressions became more assessing and they indicated that Ramsey should continue.

 

Ramsey shot Ginny an appreciative smile and then continued, “Dyatlov does officially own 6 of the Imperial eggs, but unofficially he seems to actually own 8. His encrypted records indicate that he acquired the Alexander III Commemorative from 1909 and Cherub with Chariot from 1888 as well. Both seem to have been seized by the Nazis during World War II and have never resurfaced, but it appears Dyatlov purchased them through a seller on the black market.”

 

Ramsey clicked a button on her computer and an architectural blueprint filled the sheet. “He stores his collection at his home; a large villa in the Sokolniki District in the Northeast of the city. It’s a 5 story villa that he had custom built with top-of-the-line security.”

 

“There hasn’t been a security system built that I can’t crack,” Tej boasted.

 

“I wouldn’t get too cocky just yet,” Ramsey chided before she switched to the next image. “The eggs are stored in a custom vault on the fifth floor. The vault is biometrically locked and requires Dyatlov’s retinal scan to open, in addition to a combination that only he knows. The only door onto the room is an elevator that is directly connected to the ground floor and large enough to fit an armoured truck, but can only be activated by the thumbprint of a handful of his security people. The design is based off of the Jewelers’ Building in Chicago, which allowed the jewelers to drive straight up to their floor and not have to carry their expensive cargo on the street.”

 

“Bleeding hell, how paranoid must this guy be?” Ron exclaimed.

 

“Seeing as we are sitting here plotting a way to break in and steal from him, his paranoia seems to be warranted, don’t you think?” Harry asked.

 

“Huh, I guess that’s a fair point,” Ron acknowledged. “Unfortunate for us, because the likelihood of us being able to pull this off seems pretty slim.”

 

“Bait and switch,” Letty piped in. “We just need to make sure Dyatlov has a reason to get a car up there and then get our people in that car. We were hoping you people could pull some tricks out of your magic hat to help with that.”

 

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Hermione pursed her brow, looking thoughtful. “We already know that he’s a collector and that he’s not opposed to dubious means of acquisition. What if one of those lost eggs should happen to be found?” Hermione raised one eyebrow, her face looked distinctly puckish, “Would someone from your team be able to put the word out that The Royal Danish Egg has surfaced, and the owner is accepting offers for it?”

 

Dom tilted his head, “We could probably get the word out with some of our contacts, but he’s not just going to take someone’s word for it. How do you propose we get around the fact that we don’t actually have the egg?”

 

“Can you pull up the picture of the egg. If I remember correctly, there’s only one known picture of the egg in existence?” Hermione asked.

 

“That’s right.” Ramsey pulled up the black and white photo of the egg, as well as some in colour. “Here’s the original photo, and here’s some colour photos of some reconstructions that have been made based on the descriptions that were left of the egg.”

 

Hermione nodded and then turned to George, “Why don’t you give this a shot? You’ve done your fair share of reproductive transfigurations, if Molly’s stories are true. I’m pretty sure she still hasn’t forgiven you for the time you  _ Evanesco _ ed her Celestina Warbeck 20th anniversary collector’s plate.”

 

Ginny laughed, “I’m not sure that’s a testament to his abilities in this department, Hermione. Mum busted him, after all.”

 

“Yeah, but only because Percy told her the truth,” Hermione let slip before she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

 

“THAT LITTLE NARK!” George exclaimed. “He swore to me that he would keep his trap shut! I’m gonna—”

 

“You can’t tell him I told! I promised your mother that I wouldn’t tell anyone I knew that!” Hermione sounded distraught at having accidentally broken the confidence.

 

“Fine,” George agreed reluctantly. “But Percy has just nominated himself to be the guinea pig for all new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products for the next five years.”

 

“Thank Merlin! That puts me in the clear!” Ron punched his fist in the air and let out a relieved puff of air.

 

“Sounds fair,” Ginny agreed, nodding. Ramsey appeared to be stifling laughter at the Weasley family’s antics.

 

“Let’s all get back to the task at hand, shall we?” Hermione suggested. George removed his wand from his arm brace and stood up and walked around the table to stand closer to the sheet with the projected images on it. He stared at the images for several moments, occasionally asking Ramsey to zoom in on one part or another, with one hand subconsciously stroking his chin. Finally, he seemed to be ready. He looked around the room and picked up a blue and white porcelain vase from the side table.

 

“Not that, you numpty! That’s from the Ming Dynasty!” Draco exclaimed before he dashed over to George, yanked the vase out of his hand and carefully replaced it on the side table. Draco opened and dug around inside the side table for a moment before he pulled out a silver water jug and handed it to the older wizard. “Here, you can use this. One less piece of silver that’s hardly ever used for Kerplunk to polish.”

 

George placed the jug on the table and then took one last look at the images before he pointed his wand at the jug, his tongue extended in a look of concentration. The jug began to transform before their eyes, protrusions forming and shaping themselves into elaborate ornamentation. The pale blue and white egg was held aloft, upside down, by 3 golden lions standing on a tri-pronged base, and a small elephant rested atop. Delicate gold filigree adorned the egg, with precious stones arranged in a cursive M inside a golden crest in the centre. After a few minutes, George stood straight and took a step back, seeming satisfied with the effort.

 

“It’s not perfect, but I can practice some more,” George shrugged.

 

“Damn. Where can I sign up to learn magic?” Tej asked as he reached out, picked up the transfigured egg, and inspected it. “That is seriously impressive.”

 

“Well that solves that problem. We’ll get the word out that someone’s looking to sell it,” Dom said as Tej passed him the egg and he spun it around in his hands, one eyebrow lifting as he seemed grudgingly impressed. “Once he takes the bait, we’ll intercept the car in transit.”

 

“How do you plan to do that?” Harry asked.

 

“I’ve got $20 that says it has something to do with cars,” Deckard replied.

 

“You’re just jealous that I could beat you in a road race with one arm tied behind my back and blindfolded,” Dom shot back in his gravelly voice.

 

“You know what, Chrome Dome? Let’s take this outside. I’ll race you right now!” Deckard pushed his chair back, stood up, and leaned over the table, pointing his finger at Dom.

 

“Put your dick back in your pants and sit the fuck down, Deckard,” Letty drolled. Deckard seemed to remember that they were here on a job and sat back down, adjusting the lapels on his jacket.

 

“You could fill a swimming pool with the testosterone in this room,” Ginny muttered under her breath.

 

“Welcome to ‘the family’,” Ramsey smirked, prompting a loud bark of laughter from the redhead.

 

“You’d think that with six brothers I’d be used to it,” Ginny laughed. “Thank Merlin I’m attracted to women.”

 

“I’m an only child and I always wished I had siblings...though perhaps not six of them.” Ramsey gave Ginny a wink.

 

“Let’s get back on track,” Hermione said, pursing her lips. “Ramsey, you said that there was only one door onto the floor, but it looked like there was a window on the blueprints?”

 

Ramsey switched back to the blueprints, “You’re right, there is a window there, but it’s inaccessible. The only feasible way to access it would be via the roof, but it is equipped with motion-activated cameras that would alert his security team. And even if we manage to disable them, it’s five stories up, so it’s not particularly practical for removing all of the pieces from the vault.”

 

“I may have an idea for that, and you’ll be happy to know that it does involve a car, Deckard.” A sly grin spread across Hermione’s face, “Ron, do you think Arthur will let us borrow his car after the last time?”

 

***

 

“Guys, we have a problem,” Ramsey declared, rushing into the Malfoy Manor dining room that had become their unofficial centre of operations.

 

Hermione gave the batch of Polyjuice Potion she was brewing for their heist one final counter-clockwise stir and then lowered the flame before casting a protective charm over the set up and turning her attention to the current catastrophe that was threatening to ruin their plan.

 

Ron pulled out his wand and cast a Patronus charm, “Go tell Harry and Draco that they need to get down here.” The wispy blue jack russell terrier trotted off and disappeared through the wall. Moments later there was a large crack of Apparition and Harry appeared in the room.

 

“Narcissa has a particularly strong fever and Draco doesn’t want to leave her,” Harry explained as he took a seat at the table. “He said I could fill him in on any changes to the plan later.”

 

“Okay, well I just picked up some activity on Dyatlov’s account. He’s contracted a military transport plane.”

 

“What does that mean? How does that change anything for us?” Harry asked.

 

“He’s not just going to transport the egg under armoured guard. He’s going to transport the entire armoured car,” Ramsey answered. “He’s going to have his authenticator meet our seller at the airport and assess the authenticity of the egg there. Then it’s going to be transferred to the armoured car and put under a time-activated lock for transportation to Russia. The lock won’t be able to even be opened until 12 hours after it’s activated.”

 

“Okay, so we just interrupt the truck here instead of in Russia. I still don’t see what the problem is,” Tej piped in, not looking up from his computer screen.

 

“The armoured car is airtight and only contains enough air supply for two people for three hours,” Ramsey explained.

 

“Okay, that’s a problem,” Harry agreed.

 

Tej forcefully shut his computer screen. “As one half of the party that’s supposed to be in that car, that sounds like a big fucking problem.”

 

“Where’s Dom?” Deckard asked. He was sitting with his feet on the table and the chair leaning back on two legs as he used a large hunting knife to clean under his fingernails. “We’ll just have to work out another plan.”

 

“He’s upstairs.” Deckard moved to stand up at Ramsey’s response, but then she continued, “but he and Letty probably don’t want to be disturbed right now, judging by the sounds I heard coming from their room when I walked by.”

 

“Jesus Christ, again?! Deckard yelled. “We have a heist to plan and all those two seem concerned about is getting their rocks off!”

 

“Ah, give them a break, Deck,” Roman laughed, “Ever since the kiddo came along, they haven’t had much time to themselves, you know?”

 

Deckard rolled his eyes. “At least Brian and Mia agreed to watch the little rugrat so we don’t have to worry about babysitting on top of everything else.”

 

“We heard your whining all the way upstairs. If that isn’t a mood killer, I don’t know what is.” Dom and Letty sauntered into the room, holding hands. “You whine more than the kid does, and he’s still in diapers,” Letty continued.

 

“Well, if it isn’t the King and Queen of this merry ol’ band of thieves. Thanks for taking time out of your busy fucking schedule to join us,” Deckard said.

 

“Some of us know how to pleasure a woman. Speaking of which,” Dom turned to Harry, “we’ll need another one of those  _ Reparo _ charms on our bed.” Dom and Letty both had similar self-satisfied smirks on their faces, and Harry laughed.

 

Ramsey recounted what she had discovered to Dom and Letty and the group got to work developing a plan B.


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny crossed her arms and tried not to look nervous as the Muggle man pulled out a pair of eyeglasses with some sort of magnifying glass on them and leaned down, closer to the egg. The two men behind him stood guard with their arms clasped behind their backs. She could just make out the bulge of a shoulder holster under their dark blue suit jackets. The fact that they had a job to do didn’t seem to be deterring them from checking out her tits every so often, though.

 

Ginny’s assignment was to pose as the seller of the egg, which was why she was now dressed up in an expensive Muggle designer outfit. Her style had always been much more down-to-Earth than chic, so Ramsey had offered to help her dress the part. She had settled on a sleeveless, emerald green, silk wrap dress that came to just above her knees. When Ramsey had said it made her red hair look like a roaring flame, the choice had been obvious. Judging by the way Dyatlov’s men had eye-fucked her when she’d emerged from the stretch limousine and presented the egg, the dress was hitting the mark.

 

Ginny brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as the man continued his inspection of the egg. She shifted her hips and could feel the rough brush of her wand against her skin where it was strapped to her inner thigh. They were pretty confident that George’s fraud would pass inspection, but if this turned pear-shaped she would need to control the situation and make sure that egg got loaded onto the car and transported to Moscow, or their whole plan would be ruined. Narcissa had been on a downhill slide for the last two weeks, and this was their only chance. They would not have time to come up with a new plan.

 

The man _hmmmed_ and _hawwwed_ and rotated the egg to inspect the other side, and Ginny suppressed a sigh of irritation. Patience had never been her strong suit and she just wanted this to be over already. Finally, after what felt like hours, the man straightened up and removed the headgear, “The egg appears to be a genuine Fabergé egg.”

 

Ginny focused on keeping her face straight and not betraying the excitement that she was feeling. “Of course it is,” she stated, as if she’d had no doubts at all that that was the conclusion that he was going to reach. “So when will I get my money?”

 

The man gingerly picked up the egg and placed it in a large, black, velvet-lined box before filling the remaining space with packing peanuts. “My client will wire you an initial transfer of 3.75 million pounds as a good faith payment, then once he has the egg authenticated by a second party, he will wire you the other half of the agreed upon price.”

 

“Wait just a second. That’s not what we agreed to! I was told I would be given the full amount now,” Ginny protested. She hoped that she was selling the mock outrage—they had anticipated that Dyatlov would pull something like this.

 

“Take it or leave it,” the man appeared bored. “If you think that you can find another buyer willing to pay this much for an egg of questionable provenance, then you are welcome to try to find one. Otherwise, I have been given very strict instructions that this is how the sale will be conducted.” The man inspected his nails and buffed them on the lapel of his jacket.

 

Ginny wanted to roll her eyes, but she stifled the urge and instead stared daggers at the man, appearing to contemplate her options, before finally giving a curt nod of her head in acceptance of the deal.

 

“Very good,” the man removed a mobile phone from his pocket and typed out a message. A quiet ding emerged from the device and the man looked up, “You can check your account now and I believe you will find that the money is there.”

 

Ginny didn’t say anything, but removed the mobile phone that Ramsey had given her and pushed the buttons that she had been told would connect her to Ramsey at Malfoy Manor. The phone only rang once before Ramsey picked up and Ginny spoke into the device, “Check the account. Half of the amount should be there.”

 

Ginny could hear the click-clicking of keyboard keys that had become so familiar to her over the last couple of weeks, and then Ramsey’s soft voice was speaking in her ear, “Yup, the transfer is there. Get out of there, Gin.”

 

Ginny smiled briefly as she thanked Ramsey and hung up. She strode back towards the man and held her hand out to him to shake, “Pleasure doing business with your boss.”

 

The man took her hand and shook it. Ginny suppressed a shudder at the sweatiness of his palms. Taking her hand back, she turned around and swaggered to the stretch limo, her heels clacking on the concrete of the runway. She could feel the eyes of the three men behind her as her hips swung back and forth. Maybe she’d keep the dress and heels, afterall.

 

***

 

“Okay everyone, just like we practiced,” Dom spoke into the headsets that each member of the team was wearing as he pulled the 1971 Jenson Interceptor out in front of the armoured car and paced it.

 

“We’re in position. Ready when you guys are,” Letty replied as she pulled the 2011 Lexus LFA convertible up beside the armoured car on the left.

 

The cavalcade of cars was approaching the end of the Lefortovo tunnel as Ron rolled down his window in the passenger seat of the lead car with Dom and took aim, chucking the Peruvian Instant Darkness pellets in a wide arc behind them. It was only seconds later that the entire tunnel was thrown into total darkness and he could hear the cars around them slamming on their brakes,  incapacitated by the lack of sight. Hermione, who was riding shotgun with Letty, pointed her wand at the cab of the armoured car, her other hand clutching one side of a Hand of Glory. Letty also held the hand, which allowed them both to see through the pitch black tunnel. Draco had to call in several favours with his old Slytherin housemates to acquire additional Hands, but even then he’d only managed to acquire one, so they were having to share them amongst the two cars.

 

“ _Confundo,_ ” Hermione’s casting was transmitted into everyone’s ear through the headsets, just barely audible over the roaring noise and wind of the tunnel. The armoured car veered to the right, following Dom’s car as it was shepherded over to the exit ramp by Letty and Hermione.

 

As they arose from the tunnel, the three vehicles exited the busy roadway just as a second , identical armoured car merged onto the wide Third Ring Road and veered into place where the previous armoured car had been. The timing was close, but they managed to get into place just as the Instant Darkness Powder in the tunnel started to clear.

 

“I’m picking up lots of reports about a power outage in the tunnel causing all the lights to go up, but there’s nothing else coming up. I think you guys pulled it off,” Ramsey was monitoring the surveillance and police channels for them back at the Manor.

 

“It’s over to you guys now,” Letty said.

 

“We got this. Don’t worry guys, I’m gonna charm the pants off of him,” Roman assured as he drove the replacement armoured car towards Dyatlov’s villa.

 

“If you are so desperate to get a man out of his pants, I don’t know why you spend so much time hitting on Ramsey and my sister,” Ron joked.

 

“A man has needs, Ginger. There’s no shame in that,” Roman retorted.

 

“Let’s just all keep our pants on, shall we?” Draco chastised as he sat beside Roman in the armoured car. The team had decided to pair up Muggles and magic users to provide as many back-up options as possible. It was Draco and Roman’s responsibility to deliver the armoured car with the stowaways, Harry and Tej (hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak), to the villa. They would also need to find a way to get one of Dyatlov’s hairs and leave it for Harry to use before Dyatlov dismissed them.

 

Dom led the hijacked armour car into an abandoned warehouse and out of sight. Hermione modified the memory of the driver, erasing all records of this contract and implanting new memories to account for the lack of time before doing the same for the second guard, who had been held at bay by Dom and Letty.

 

Hermione cast a _Tempus_ charm and then turned to Dom, “We have two minutes until the Portkey activates.” She pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her pocket, the wrist cuffs covered in a bright red, soft wrapping, and Letty gave her an odd look.

 

“I never took you for the type,” Letty said in a dry tone.

 

“You’d be surprised,” Ron smirked.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “This is what I get for letting George pick the Portkey.” She attached the cuff to one of the guard’s wrists and then shuffled him over so that she could attach the other cuff to the second guard.

 

“I call dibs on telling Deckard that his ex is getting freaky with the feisty redhead,” Dom smirked.

 

Dom and Letty laughed between themselves, and then a rattling hum began and they turned back to the two guards, who were standing immobile, as if insensate. The hum got louder and then the two guards seemed to get sucked into a pinpoint of space, where the handcuffs had previously been, and disappeared.

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how freaky this shit is,” Letty mumbled.

 

“They’ll show up at the Manor and Kerplunk will send them on their way. Now we just have this last loose end to tie up.” Hermione turned to the armoured car and waved her wand in a complicated series of patterns. The armoured car vanished into thin air. “Excellent, phase two is complete.”

 

The four climbed back into their vehicles and sped off.


	6. Chapter 6

The gate buzzed and the automated doors swung outwards to allow the armoured car entrance to the grounds of the villa. Draco and Roman cast a quick look at each other before Roman put the car back into gear and started forward. He followed the driveway, which was lit by garden path lamps every few feet, around to the back of the building, where there were three armed security guards standing in front of a large garage door.

 

As they pulled up to the door, two of the guards stepped forward and inspected the truck, sliding mirrors on extended poles under the chassis, inspecting for any hidden surprises. After they’d moved front to back along the bottom of the vehicle, they repeated the process on the roof, checking to see whether there was any surprise guests there. Once they seemed satisfied, they nodded to the remaining guard, who stepped up to the wall, placed his thumb in a scanner, and a moment later the door was sliding open and Roman and Draco were waved forward.

 

Draco took a deep breath and chewed nervously on his gum as they pulled into the large elevator and the door closed behind them. There was a brief jarring motion, and then they were ascending. The elevator soon came to a jerking halt. As the back door slowly slid open, they could see a tall, impeccably dressed man with salt and pepper hair flanked by two more guards with large Muggle weapons across their chests. The guards watched them with beady eyes as the man directed Roman to pull forward and park the car in the high-ceilinged room, the parquet floor protected by a large rubber mat.

 

Roman parked the car and then the two of them exited the vehicle slowly, directed by the two armed guards to keep their hands visible at all times. They were instructed to turn, face the vehicle, place their hands on the surface, and then they were being patted down.

 

“Whoa man, you could buy me dinner before feeling up my junk!” Roman protested. The guard patting him down grunted and Draco wasn’t sure whether he spoke English or not, but judging by the way he used the butt of his gun to force Roman’s legs further apart, he would guess that he at least caught the gist. Draco kept his mouth shut and breathed a sigh of relief when the glamour concealing the wand holster on his arm worked, with the guard searching him merely brushing over the area before moving on.

 

When the guards were satisfied that they were unarmed, they were allowed to turn around. Draco eyed the man in front of him. “Thank you for your patience, gentlemen. My security team were just doing their job,” he said in thickly accented English.

 

“Yeah, no problem. Just make sure to send me the results of the prostate exam. No point in having my doctor do one this year, now.” Roman quipped.

 

“I’m very sorry, sir. My partner here is under the delusion that he has a sense of humour.” Draco bowed his head in a gesture of subservience to the man. Growing up the way he did, he had learned a trick or two about how to stroke the egos of men in power.

 

“Whatever, man,” Roman dismissed Draco’s insult.

 

Dyatlov gave Roman an icy stare that stretched out until there was a long awkward silence in the room. Draco elbowed Roman in the ribs and Roman eyed him in confusion while Draco gestured with his head, trying to communicate that Roman should play nice and apologize.

 

“Sorry.” Draco elbowed Roman once again. “Sir,” Roman tacked on.

 

Dyatlov looked over his shoulder towards one of his guards. “It’s so hard to find good help these days.” The other man didn’t react, merely continuing to stare straight ahead, watching Draco and Roman like a hawk.

 

Dyatlov turned to address Draco, apparently deciding to wash his hands with Roman entirely, “What time was the lock activated?”

 

Draco stared at the man’s torso, opting to adopt an exaggerated deferential attitude, given that Roman had already angered him. “The lock was engaged at 8:24 PM, London time, sir. It cannot be opened for,” Draco glanced down at his simple watch and plain black leather band, “another 6 hours and 14 minutes.”

 

“I see,” Dyatlov looked down at the garish, diamond-studded, gold watch on his arm. Draco wanted to roll his eyes at the obvious sign of new money. “Well it’s nearly 4 am now, so I suppose I will get a few hours’ rest before then.” Dyatlov held his hand out, “The keys, please.”

 

Roman passed the keys over to Dyatlov and explained which key was for the ignition and which was for the lock on the sealed compartment of the truck. “I think you’ve got something in your hair. I’ll just—”

 

Before Dyatlov or his guards could move, Roman reached forward, plucked one of Dyatlov’s hairs from his head, and slid it between his thumb and forefinger. The guards swung their guns around and pointed them at Roman. Draco held his breath, hoping they’d be able to dispel the dangerous tension.

 

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll make sure that I inform our supervisor about his unacceptable behaviour.” Draco held his hands up in a placating gesture.

 

“I thought I saw a spider. I didn’t mean to scare you, man,” Roman said. The words were technically an apology, but Draco could see the subtle manipulation in them. He hoped that Dyatlov would take the bait.

 

“I wasn’t scared, but you did startle my guards. No more sudden movements if you know what’s best for you,” Dyatlov threatened, but he gestured for the guards to lower their guns, which they did very slowly.

 

Draco stepped in front of Roman and addressed Dyatlov, “I’m truly very sorry for his behaviour, sir. I assure you that as soon as we’re back in Britain I will file a report with our supervisor.” Draco bowed slightly with his arm tucked behind his back, which allows Roman to hand him the hair that he had plucked.

 

“I think we’re quite done here.” Dyatlov turned around, walking back to the elevator.

 

Draco knelt down beside the front left wheel of the vehicle, tying the shoelace which he had made sure to leave untied when they’d boarded the car. The guards eyed him suspiciously, but then Roman drew their attention away, asking them how much their salary was and whether or not they had health insurance. The stony guards stared daggers at him, but it was distraction enough that Draco was able to covertly spit out his gum and attach the hair to it. Then, using the pretense of needing something to prop himself on as he stood, he stuck the wad to the inside of the wheel.

 

Draco took hold of Roman’s elbow and dragged him towards the elevator where Dyatlov was now waiting, the guards flanking them. They all stepped on, Dyatlov placed his thumb on the scanner, and they were descending to the ground floor again. A black town car was now waiting on the other side of the elevator door as it slid open, and Roman and Draco walked towards it.

 

“You know, you remind me of someone,” Dyatlov’s voice came from behind him just as he was about to lower himself into the back seat of the vehicle and Draco tensed up. He had been concerned that the man may recognize him as Lucius’ son, but he had gambled that a man like this couldn’t be bothered to care about a lowly armoured car driver and wouldn’t really take notice of him. Draco turned around and faced the man again, subtly bringing his arm up alongside his opposite arm, prepared to pull out his wand.

 

“You look a bit like that R&B singer...what’s his name again...Tyrone? Tyrell?” Dyatlov was squinting at Roman as he tried to remember the name. Draco let out a sigh of relief and relaxed his posture.

 

“Tyrese?” Roman asked. “I’ll take that as a compliment. That is one fine lookin’ man, right there.” Draco and Roman climbed into the back seat of the car and it pulled away from the villa, backtracking down the long driveway and through the wrought-iron gates. They didn’t say anything, for fear that the driver was in Dyatlov’s employ, but they gave each other a quick, wide grin before they schooled their faces and stared out of the window, watching the city pass by.

 

***

 

Tej pushed a button on his watch and the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:32 am. They’d been locked in the back of this truck for an hour and a half now, and Harry was beginning to get restless.

 

“Talk to me, Ramsey,” Tej spoke into his headset. “What’s taking so long with the cameras?”

 

“I’m still working on them. Hang tight,” the voice entered Harry’s ear. He could hear her rapid typing and he thought he may have heard Ginny’s voice in the background. A few more minutes went by, in which Harry and Tej sat against opposite walls of the armoured car and waited. Harry had spent enough time in the cupboard under the stairs that the cramped confinement of the vehicle didn't bother him, but judging by the way Tej was rubbing his hands together nervously, Harry would lay odds that the other man was battling a mild case of claustrophobia right now.

 

Harry was just wondering if he should try to distract Tej from the situation when Ramsey’s voice came back on the line with a triumphant, “I’m in! Okay boys, I’m going to need you to get that mesh router into the middle of the room. Once it’s in place, the cameras should pick up the signal and connect to it instead, and I’ll be able to feed the images back into Dyatlov’s system.”

 

A muttered _thank fuck_ came from the other side of the car, and then Draco’s voice was speaking in his ear, “Please try to keep your Gryffindor instinct under wraps.”

 

“What’s a Gryffindor?” Tej asked.

 

Before Harry could explain the reference, Draco’s voice was back, “A foolhardy, clumsy, cavalier prat who gets out of sticky situations with nothing but sheer nerve and the existence of a horseshoe in a very hard-to-reach place.”

 

Harry chuckled, “Now I know why you like to spend so much time back there. Been horseshoe hunting, D?”

 

“TOO MUCH INFORMATION!!” Ron’s shout was accompanied by retching sounds until they were abruptly cut off by a cry of, “Ow! That hurt Hermione!”

 

“Well stop screaming in everyone’s ear!” Hermione’s rebuke was almost as loud as Ron’s initial protest, and Harry was filled with a rush of fondness for his friends.

 

“I’m really sorry I asked,” Tej’s face was flat for a moment before a small grin pulled on one side of his mouth.

 

Harry couldn’t help but smile back before pushing himself into a standing position and beckoning Tej to do the same. Harry bent back over, picked up the Invisibility Cloak, and shook it out, letting the soft material tumble down to the floor of the cab. Harry spun the cloak around himself, letting the soft material fall over his shoulders and make his body disappear.

 

“Whatever you do, don’t drop this.” Tej held the electronic device out to Harry, whose hands emerged from within the cloak to take it.

 

“Back in a jiff!” Harry pulled the cloak up over his head, tucked the device safely between his left arm and his body, and pulled out his wand, disappearing with a crack of Apparition. He appeared again with another loud crack and held his breath, pinching his eyes closed. No alarms started going off, so he breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes once more.

 

“Harry?” Ramsey’s soft voice came over the headset.

 

“Yeah, I’m here. Just placing the device now.” Harry took a look around the room’s high ceiling and spotted the four cameras, one in each corner. He gripped the cloak firmly closed in the front and walked slowly to the middle of the room, bent down, and gently placed the device before standing slowly up, making sure to keep the device concealed under the cloak with him. “It’s done.”

 

“Good work, Harry,” Ramsey congratulated him. “Just stay where you are until I give you the go ahead. The cameras are registering with the device now. I just need to get them all online through our system and then I can record about 30 seconds to create a loop. Hang tight.”

 

Harry stood there in the middle of the room, waiting, his heart pounding loudly in his chest, until George’s voice came over the headset, “Do you want to know why witches are more powerful than wizards?” Before anyone could respond, George continued, “they get wet without water, bleed without being injured, give milk without eating grass, and they can make boneless meat hard.”

 

A mixture of groans, chastisements and chuckles filled the connection at George’s joke before Deckard’s accented voice rose above them all, “Oi, sounds like I may have to give my darling ex-wife a heads up that she may have some competition.”

 

“Brooke may be a Muggle, but what that woman can do in a bed is magical,” George quipped back.

 

Deckard let out a small, affirmative grunt before adding, “I can’t argue with you there. That woman’s tongue could—”

 

“Gross. This is more  than I want to know about my brother’s sex life,” Ginny shot back, cutting Deckard off mid-fond remembrance.

 

Ramsey’s voice rang over the line and everyone immediately sobered. “Okay Harry. The loop is in place. You can come out of hiding now.”

 

“And then get me the hell out of this sardine can!” Harry shed the cloak and gave Ramsey a little wave in one of the cameras before he Apparated back into the back of the car and Side-Along-Apparated Tej out.

 

When they landed on the shiny parquet floor, Tej immediately bent over double and started dry heaving. “Yeah, sorry about that. Apparition takes a little getting used to. I should have warned you.” Harry rubbed his hand against the back of his neck and gave a chagrined shrug of the shoulders. He remembered how nauseating Apparition was the first time Dumbledore had side-alonged him. To be honest, it still was not his preferred method of travel.

 

“I left the hair and gum behind the front left wheel,” Draco’s voice prompted Harry, and he moved around to the side of the vehicle, leaving Tej to get his roiling stomach under control. Harry reached around behind the wheel and felt around until he found the glob of gum, then carefully peeled it off the wheel. Harry pulled the hair off of the sticky mass and tore off the end that still had gum stuck to it, keeping only the plain strand.

 

He held the hair pinched between thumb and forefinger as he reached into his back pocket and took out the silver flask, spinning the lid and flipping it off. Harry carefully dropped the hair into the flask, sealed it back up, and gave it a shake. Tej straightened, having gotten his nausea under control, and walked over to Harry just as he opened the flask again, “Yo, that smells like the ass end of a skunk. You’re really going to drink that shit?”

 

Harry shuddered. “Afraid so,” he affirmed before he brought the flask up to his lips, threw back his head and took a deep swallow. A shudder racked his body and he started gagging as he screwed the lid back on the foul potion.

 

“Shit,” Tej trailed off as Harry’s features started to stretch, contort, and change. He seemed to grow in front of Tej’s eyes. His shirt and pants were already several inches too short as Harry’s diminutive frame rose to Dyatlov’s 6’2” stature. The transformation went on for approximately 30 seconds, and Tej watched on with a mixture of horror and fascination until Harry’s features finally settled, and a Dyatlov doppelgänger stood in front of him.

 

“Cute crop top,” Tej recovered from his shock and gave Harry a sardonic smile. Dyatlov’s face smiled back at him before removing his wand and, with a flick, modifying the clothes so that they fit the much taller body they were now covering.

 

“Knock knock, who’s there?” George’s voice came over the headsets. Harry and Tej looked up just in time to see the window pane vanish and then cold night air was blowing into the room. George’s head, with Deckard over his shoulder in the driver’s seat, could be seen through the rolled down window of the flying Ford Anglia outside of the window, but the rest of the vehicle was hidden thanks to the invisibility booster that Mr. Weasley had installed all of those years ago.

 

“Let’s get this thing moving. We’re not here for a fucking tea party,” Deckard growled.

 

George rolled his eyes, “Oh great, now I really want a nice cuppa.” Deckard put the car in gear and they disappeared as George turned the car around and backed up, lining up the trunk with the open frame of the window.

 

Harry and Tej rushed over to the control panel for the vault and Harry stood aside as Tej popped the cover off of the keypad and plugged a circuit board into the pad. “I should have the combo in a minute,” he informed the team. Harry watched as the display on the control panel cycled through options, each number eventually becoming static on the screen: 3…2…2…3...7...4...3.

 

“Okay, we’ve got it. Harry, you just need to type that password, 3-2-2-3-7-4-3, into the keypad and then do the retinal scan and we should be in.” Tej disconnected the electronic device from the console and then replaced the cover on the keypad.

 

Harry and Tej exchanged nervous glances, and then Tej stepped aside and let Harry have access to the console. Harry carefully typed each number into the pad in sequence and there was a beep before a panel on the wall slid open to reveal a small cavity in the wall with a chin rest just inside and a red light shining on the back wall. Harry leaned forward, placed his chin in the rest and stretched his eyes wide open as the light passed over first one, then the other. Another brief beep was heard, and then, with a loud clunk, the vault door popped open.

 

“Shit, I can’t believe that worked,” Tej muttered before more loudly saying, “Okay, vault’s open.”

 

“Tej, you go stand by the window and load things into the trunk. I’ll pass them out to you,” Harry instructed as he stepped over to the heavy, metal door and pushed it open. Tej nodded and quickly strode across the room to the open window. “George, keep an eye on the ground and make sure that none of the security patrols spot us, and if they do, hit them with a _Confundus_.”

 

“Ah come on! That’s no fun! What about a Frisky Fingers Hex instead? They’ll be so busy getting themselves off that—”

 

“George!” A chorus of shouts could be heard over the headsets.

 

“Fine, fine. _Confundus_ it is. You guys are so boring sometimes,” George grumbled.

 

“Weasley, we’re in the middle of stealing millions of dollars worth of objects from a Russian criminal. I think that makes us anything other than ‘boring’,” Draco’s exasperated voice came through their ears.

 

“Pull this off, guys, and I’ll let you use me as a guinea pig later,” Roman offered. “That is, unless Ramsey’s ready to admit to her intense and overwhelming feelings for me and demands to take me immediately to bed as soon as we land back in Britain.”

 

“You wish, Roman. When are you going to admit to yourself that there’s no way she’d settle for your pathetic ass when she could have me,” Tej shot back.

 

“You can use both of them as your guinea pigs, George,” Ramsey’s dry tone cut into the two men’s grandstanding, and George let out a bark of laughter.

 

As Harry listened to the two teams ribbing each other, he couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie that had arisen between the two groups over the last couple of weeks. It felt as if his family had doubled in size. He almost wished that this whole plot wasn’t almost at its conclusion, because he was pretty sure he was going to miss this makeshift family when the job was done.

 

Harry shook himself and focused back on the task at hand. He pulled the vault door open, stepped inside, and took a look around. The vault had three rows of shelving running down the inside of it, each one lined with carefully arranged artwork. The shelf furthest from him seemed to have all of the Fabergé eggs arranged neatly under protective glass covers. Harry scanned the shelves until he saw the reason for them being here—the Constellation Egg. There was no spotlight on it, so Harry couldn’t see the glittering stars effect that Draco had described, but even without it, it was a thing of beauty. Harry reached out, removed the glass cover, and gently picked the egg up off the shelf. He knew he had correctly identified it when his fingertips were chilled by its cool surface.

 

Harry rotated the egg in his hand, admiring it, before Tej’s voice jolted him back to the present, “Ready when you are, Harry.”

 

Harry pulled out his wand, cast a Hovering Charm, and directed the egg to the window, “Be extra careful with that one, Tej.”

 

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Tej assured him, and Harry could hear a muttered ‘ _Thank Merlin_ ’ from Draco over the ear piece.

 

“Alright, gentlemen, let’s wrap this up,” Dom’s deep, bass voice piped up.

 

Now that they’d secured their main objective, Harry went about clearing all of the shelves in the vault, using hover charms to move each item out of the vault and over to Tej, who carefully loaded it all into the trunk of the Anglia. Twenty minutes later, George had _Confunded_ and sent on their way two guards that had heard the rumbling engine and gotten suspicious, and Harry was hovering the final piece of art over to Tej’s waiting hands. Harry exited the vault and closed it up again, perhaps buying them a little more time before the alarms got raised to get out of dodge.

 

Tej closed the trunk of the Anglia and Deckard turned the car back around so that the side of the vehicle was once again lined up with the vehicle. George helped Tej climb through the open window into the backseat of the car, and then Harry was alone in the room. He slid the invisibility cloak back on, bent down , picked up the router, and waved his wand at the window. The pane reformed from the outer edges, expanding inwards until it looked just as it had before. “I’ve got the router. I’m Apparating out now,” Harry informed Ramsey.

 

Harry Apparated out of the room and into the back seat of the Anglia. Deckard pulled away from the building, and they rose up, into the sky, and away from the villa.

 

“The cameras are live again. Everything looks exactly the same,” Ramsey confirmed. “Nicely done, boys. Head on home. We’ll see you when you get back.”

 

“Harry,” Draco’s voice was a soft whisper. “I just wanted to say thank you. I would never have thought this possible if it weren’t for you...for all of you. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am.” Draco’s voice broke and Harry knew that the other man was fighting to control his emotions.

 

“Nothing’s impossible when it’s for family,” Dom said kindly.

 

Harry exchanged looks with the other three people in the car and they all had subtle smiles on their faces. He obviously wasn’t the only one who had started to think of all of these people as family. “I’ll be home soon, D.”

 

Harry removed the earset and settled back in the seat, making himself comfortable for the long flight home.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco took a deep breath and squeezed Harry’s hand. Although he had tried to keep his hopes in check, he had failed miserably, and in the last few weeks he had become so focused on getting his hands on the egg that he had started to forget that it may not even work. Harry and the others had landed ten minutes ago and the first thing that he had done—after taking Harry in his arms and assuring himself that he really was alright—was to remove the trinket from the Constellation Egg and rush to his mother’s bedside. Now that he was here and it was the moment of truth, he felt stuck; he was desperate to save his mother, but would give anything to postpone potentially discovering that the egg would be ineffective and he was likely to lose her.

 

“I’m here, D. No matter what happens, I’ll be here for you.” Harry rubbed Draco’s biceps in a soothing up and down motion. Draco nodded, drawing strength from Harry’s presence by his side.

 

Draco disentangled his fingers from Harry’s and sat on the edge of his mother’s bed. Her hair was damp and stuck to her forehead.. Draco leaned forward and smoothed the hair back from his mother’s head as he whispered in her ear, “I need you to wake up, mother.”

 

Narcissa moaned under her breath, and Draco could swear that he heard her whisper his name. Draco continued to encourage her to wake up. Her eyes eventually opened, but she seemed confused and uncertain about where she was. Leaning over, Draco picked up the glass of cool water from the side table that Kerplunk had helpfully left there. “Mother, I need you to sit up and take this medicine.”

 

Narcissa tried to push herself up to a sitting position, but she seemed too weak to lift even her slight body weight up, so Harry came around to the other side of the bed and kneeled on it, helping Draco pull her body up and rest it gently against the padded headboard. “Draco?,” Narcissa’s voice was croaky as comprehension seemed to slowly gather behind her eyes.

 

“That’s right, Mother. It’s me, Draco. And Harry.”

 

Narcissa’s head slowly turned and she seemed to notice Harry for the first time. A look of dull panic flitted across her face and she lifted her hand, struggling because of the muscle atrophy, and took Harry’s hand, which was resting on the bedcover. “Take. Care. Draco.” She struggled to get the words out, and Draco could feel tears pooling in his eyes; here she was on death’s door and her first thought was to make sure there was someone to take care of him.

 

Harry ran his thumbs over her knuckles in a soothing stroke as he replied, “I’m not going anywhere, but neither are you. He’s a handful. He needs both of us to keep him out of trouble.” Harry gave Narcissa a fond smile, but Draco knew his face well enough to see that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Harry was almost as worried about Narcissa as Draco was.

 

Draco cleared his throat to get his mother’s attention and waited patiently until she turned her head towards him before he held up the egg in one hand and the glass of water in the other. “I have some medicine for you. I need you to open up and swallow this egg down for me, okay?”

 

Narcissa gave him a sad smile, but she slowly opened her mouth and let Draco place the ashwinder egg on her tongue. She closed her mouth and Draco held the glass of water up to her lips. He tipped it gently, letting a small trickle of water pass her lips to help her wash down the egg. Narcissa swallowed and then gave Draco another small smile, “That feels better.”

 

Draco felt a swoop of excitement in his stomach at her words. “Really? You feel better already?”

 

Narcissa gave a short nod of her head and then her eyes drifted closed, “Mmmm. Throat was dry.”

 

Draco felt a wave of crushing disappointment wash over him. Intellectually he knew that it wasn’t like the ashwinder egg could instantaneously cure her illness, but for a second he had hoped his intellect was wrong. He reached out and placed his hand over one of hers, resting in her lap. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the rest of this day. Harry lifted her other hand and placed it in her lap as well. Keeping his hand on hers, Harry reached out and hooked his pinky with Draco’s, giving Draco a lifeline to hold onto.

 

***

 

“Hey, Kerplunk?” The diminutive elf appeared with a pop beside Dominic at his inquiry. “Hey man, any chance we could get some more Coronas out here?”

 

“Kerplunk is happy to be helping,” the elf agreed, and then, with a snap of his fingers, a large plastic bucket filled with ice and glass bottles of Corona beer appeared on the lawn between the picnic tables.

 

Dom thanked the elf, but before he could invite the creature to join them, the elf disappeared again with another pop. “All this magic stuff is still pretty crazy, but I could get used to having a house elf.”

 

“Traditionally house elves have only ever served wizarding families, but I have been working on getting people to move away from the old traditions and make them paid servants rather than slave labour,” Hermione spoke up from the picnic table to Dom’s right, where she was sitting with Ron, Roman, Tej, and Deckard. “Draco was one of my first successful converts from the old Pureblood families,” Hermione said proudly.

 

Letty removed a fresh plate of burgers from the barbecue they had set up on the lawn of Malfoy Manor and arranged them on a plate, which she brought over and set down on the table. “I’m gonna have to say no to us getting a house elf servant. You’ve got a six-pack that I’m quite fond of, and an endless supply of Coronas will do nothing for that.” Letty wrapped her arm around the back of Dom’s waist and stood against his side, running her hands over his abdominal muscles and smiling up at him fondly.

 

Dominic turned in her embrace, wrapped his large hands around her waist, and lifted her up, holding her against him until she wrapped her legs around his waist. “You’d just have to make sure to give me frequent workouts, woman.” The two kissed as he openly squeezed her butt and Roman and Tej shouted for them to get a room.

 

Ramsey emerged from the patio door, carrying a large plate of corn on the cob, and walked towards the large group. “I just checked the dark web auctions, and we’ve already gotten over 150 million USD in bids.”

 

“Oooo, corn on the cob! Bring that plate over here,” Ron rubbed his hands together and licked his lips as Ramsey approached.

 

“Man, didn’t you hear what she just said? That’s 12.5 million for each of us! And all you can think about is the corn?!” Tej said.

 

“Yeah, I heard, and that’s great and all, but I don’t have the money here now. But what I do have is a big ol’ heaping plate of delicious corn, so right now, that’s more exciting for me.” Ron shrugged and Hermione laughed.

 

“He’s never given me any reason to be jealous of another woman since we’ve been together, but sometimes I do get jealous of food. You should see the look that washes over his face when there’s a plate of chicken wings in the room.” Hermione laughed.

 

“Oooo, chicken! I could go for some chicken. Let’s get some chicken for the grill, yeah?” Everyone laughed at the far-away look of anticipation on Ron’s face. He really did look smitten.

 

Ginny, George, and his fiance, Brooke, emerged out onto the lawn, walked towards the celebration, and took seats at the second picnic table. Letty took another plate heaping with barbecued meat over to them, and they thanked her before tucking into the food. The two groups mingled, laughing and talking with each other, happy voices ringing out over the spacious grounds of the Manor.

 

A little while later, Kerplunk appeared once again and arranged a deck chair just off to the side of the group. A large umbrella followed, arranged to protect the chair from the bright summer sun. The group looked confused for a moment before Hermione’s hushed ‘ _Look’_ , and everyone turned towards the patio doors, where Narcissa was standing, propped between Harry and Draco. She was still dressed in a floor length, black silk robe tied closed around her waist, but the fact that she was up and walking around now, after weeks of being too weak to leave her bed, made everyone happy to see. The three made their way slowly across the grass and Draco began leading his mother over to the deck chair, but she stopped him, pulling on the arm which he had a firm hold on.

 

Narcissa looked over at the ragtag group and gave them a broad smile. “I just wanted to express my utmost gratitude to all of you for the risks you took on my behalf.”

 

“The money didn’t hurt either,” Roman joked, and then groaned as Tej elbowed him.

 

Narcissa chuckled lightly, “Regardless of what your primary motivation was, I am very grateful and will be forever in your debt.”

 

Dom cleared his throat, “This seems like a good time for this. My team and I had a chat and we all decided that it didn’t feel right to sell this one.” Dom walked over to a cooler that was sitting on the ground by the barbecue and squatted down beside it, his back to the party. He opened the cooler’s lid and shuffled items around inside of it for a moment before he replaced the lid and stood up, turning around slowly.

 

All of the witches and wizards gasped when they caught sight of the Constellation Egg in Dom’s hands. “If you all agree to sell it, then we can start an auction for it, but we took the chance that you all would probably be okay with a cut to everyone’s shares for this.” Dom walked over to stand in front of Narcissa and held the egg, the beloved Malfoy family heirloom, out to her.

 

Tears accumulated along Narcissa’s bottom eyelid and she bit her lip as she bent her head and looked at the egg being offered to her. She was overwhelmed with gratitude that these Muggles had not only helped to give her her life back, but had also had the generosity to return this treasured gift back to her. Narcissa reached out her hands and covered Dom’s, which were cupped around the sides of the egg. She mouthed the words _‘Thank you’_ to him as she looked up at his face, unable to speak aloud for fear that her composure would crack. Dom merely nodded and then slid his hands out from under hers, leaving the Malfoy family heirloom back in the hands of its rightful owners.

 

Narcissa cupped the egg in her hands and Draco pulled out his wand while the entire ensemble watched on quietly. Dom walked back over to Letty and the two wrapped their arms around each other, Dom placing a kiss on the top of Letty’s head before the two returned their attention back to Narcissa and Draco. Draco cast a silent Lumos and then held his wand above the egg, pointing the wand tip down into the narrow opening on the top of the egg.

 

Gasps and _ooos_ and _aaah_ s arose from the assembly as the wandlight bounced around the interior of the egg, lighting it up, and the star cutouts on the outside of the egg lit up with a celestial blue glow that cast a light pattern back onto his mother’s robe. The group watched the beautiful sight for a moment before Roman spoke up, “So, it’s like a really expensive disco ball.”

 

Everyone laughed—even, to Draco’s shock, his mother— and Tej and Ron slapped the joker on his back. Draco ended the spell and put his wand back, then he and Harry helped his mother over to the deck chair and settled her back in it so that she could enjoy the fresh air and company, but still be comfortable and able to rest. Harry put together a plate of food for Narcissa and then she _shooed_ them away, insisting that they celebrate with everyone else and that she was fine, but would call them if she needed anything.

 

Harry and Draco joined Ginny, Ramsey, George and Brooke at their table and helped themselves to some of the delicious food. The party continued on into the early evening. The Muggles had set up speakers to play music and the plentiful flow of alcohol ensured that there were always people dancing around. Narcissa eventually excused herself from the festivities, but insisted on shaking everyone’s hands and personally thanking each member of the team before she was led away by Draco and Harry, who returned to the gathering shortly after having gotten Narcissa tucked away in her bedroom for the night.

 

It was late in the night when the party began winding down, and Brooke, who was resting her head on George’s shoulder, asked, “So what are you all planning to do with your shares of the money?”

 

Letty and Dom were planning on taking a second honeymoon, somewhere tropical and far away from them all so that they could have sex as frequently as they pleased without hearing Roman complain about it. Roman shared that he was planning on getting himself an Aston Martin Valkyrie and then tracking down Mr. Weasley and enticing him to set it up with all the magical bells and whistles. “It’s a crime that such a busted ass car has so many badass upgrades,” Roman moaned, looking over at the rusty, clunky Ford Anglia that sat parked on the Malfoy’s gravel driveway.

 

“It may not have been the fastest car that I’ve ever gotten to drive, but at least I’m now the only one that can boast that they’ve driven an invisible, flying car,” Deckard bragged.

 

“I’m going to give this wonderful woman here the most beautiful, fairytale wedding that she could ever dream of,” George grinned, and gave Brooke a kiss on the lips when she looked up to him.

 

“You’ve got big shoes to fill there, son,” Deckard said.

 

“This time I’m going to marry the Prince, rather than the Beast,” Brooke shot back at her ex-husband, a sly grin on her face.

 

Deckard let out a barking laugh, “I’m remembering why I divorced you now.”

 

“Megan and I are going to travel for a bit. I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. Maybe we’ll do a tour of some of the wineries,” Ginny sighed.

 

“No wonder you seem immune to my charms, Red. I didn’t realize you were playing for the other team. Who’s this lucky Megan?” Tej asked.

 

Ramsey let out a sigh of exasperation and turned to Ginny, took her head in her hands, and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. She pulled away slowly and enjoyed the flush of arousal that was colouring Ginny’s freckled skin, down past her collarbones. Megan turned a self-satisfied smile towards Tej, who was sitting beside Roman, both men’s faces painted with matching expressions of surprise. Ramsey shrugged, “She bothered to learn my name, unlike you two Casanovas.”

 

“Well damn,” Tej was the first to recover, and then the rest of the party was congratulating the two of them and wishing them luck.

 

Draco was leaning back against the picnic table, facing outwards, with his head tilted back to look at the stars. The Manor was far enough into the countryside that the light pollution was minimum and the sky was dotted with thousands of stars. In a low voice that was just loud enough for Harry, who was sitting beside him, to hear, Draco said, “I don’t really have any plans for the money. I’ll probably just donate it to charities or something. I was never in this for the money. But I do have a plan for the near future.”

 

Draco glanced at Harry to see him looking at him expectantly. Draco turned back to look at the sky once again, “I’m going to ask my mother for the Constellation Egg.”

 

Draco waited nervously as the silence seemed to stretch out for an eon, until finally Harry whispered back, “D...Are you…?”

 

Draco nodded and then turned back to face Harry, unable to tolerate not being able to see the expression on his face anymore. He opened his mouth to say something to Harry, but before he could get anything out, Harry had leaned forward and was brushing a gentle kiss against Draco’s. The two sat there, exchanging breaths for a moment before Harry leaned away and bright emerald eyes met stormy grey ones. A smile lit Harry’s face and it felt like the sun had risen again, solely for Draco’s pleasure. “Yes.”


End file.
